War
by B.Vain
Summary: The final battle is underway, and already casualties are beginning to pile. A death, a funeral and the last war counsel. When it rains, it pours.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** The author owes none of the rights to the anime or manga Fairy tail. Or the plot. Or the characters.

**WAR**

**1. Farewell**

"Where were you on the night of Friday the twenty-fifth between six-thirty and ten?"

Lucy looked drained, as if in the final stages of a terminal disease. Her voice was steady but parched, lacking any conviction. She merely droned,"In the room at the motel, 209, sleeping."

"Can anybody confirm that?"

"No, I was alone."

The room she sat in was a claustrophobe's windowless cubic nightmare, one she shared with two officers of law sitting across from her. The light overhead was stark and sterile. All of which contributed to the unreal sense that Lucy's mind was drifting through.

"So nobody can confirm your whereabouts?" the female one of the interrogators iterated with aggravating insinuations.

Lucy was still recovering from the shock, aggravation slipped off her like dews over lotus petal.

"No." Lucy sighed, spent, eyes blinking sluggishly.

The officers exchanged a look, a it's-gonna-be-a-slamdunk look, Lucy noted distantly. But she could not bring herself to be alarmed. Her system still hadn't processed it all.

"Let's talk crime scene, then." the male investigator pushed a sheaf of papers on the steel table between them, he positively vibrated with suppressed excitement. "What were you doing there?"

Lucy reached for the papers, rectangular photographs placed between them. She pulled them towards her. Her hands caked in grime as were her boots, and the jeans upto their calves. There was a streak of mud running through her golden hair pulled back in a loose ponytail.

She ruffled through the pages and photographs absently- the muddy bank of the river inside the woods where the body was discovered, shots of the boot prints in the mud, of scratches on the bark of trees and torn shrubs scattered. Lastly it was the body, who when alive had been Lucy's best friend. Stiff, cold and bloodied. She pushed them away.

Her mind was reeling and spinning. She felt absolutely nothing at the death of her guildmate, or that barring some miracle she would be convicted of it. No guilt or rage, just a hollow melancholy that would shroud her till she slumps into the waiting arms of death.

The realization caused a small spasm of panic in her stomach. But she was still a long ways from recovering her bearings. And growing ever closer to the gallows.

Barring some miracle.

The door to the interrogation cell slammed open. The officers jumped to their feet, hands on their weapons. Lucy just sat in her chair, rigid and stunned.

"Get out and pray I don't sue you all out of your cowardly lives! Interrogating without her lawyer present?! _Out_!" the intruder's voice was icy razors, tone condemning. And the sound of their voice managed to accomplish what all threats against her survival had failed to achieve- Lucy's face crumpled into lines of misery.

"Guys, lets move out."spoke another voice with tired resignation- the aged Captain of the precinct. The officers looked caught between outrage, terror and utter befuddlement. "C'mon." the Captain urged. The officers finally stumbled on towads the door.

But Lucy's mind registered none of that, just the voice and the overwhelming assurance it brought.

She flew out of her seat and flung herself into the Mira's welcoming arms. She enfolded Lucy into a hug, as if trying to shut the world out away from her. As if trying lock the suffering out.

Lucy sobbed and wailed, the panic that had risen into a tsunami bled out in tears. She cried her heart out, and as the sorrow ebbed the knowledge began taking roots. Realizations crashed down on her, terrible wave after another terrible wave.

"He's gone, Mira!" she brayed into her neck hoarsely. "Natsu's gone!" and she broke down into tears all over again. "And it's all my fault!"

Mira hugged her tighter. "I know, darling. And mine. too."

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><p>AN: This one had been gathering dust since i don't know how long. Going through it an idea struck me. I thought it was cool; but I am not be trusted. So it's out now. I have a rough idea where it's to go. Updates will be short ones, no longer than this chapter here. Because otherwise I wouldn't be able to put up another chapter at all.

Review, please. Nothing motivates an author like an audience responsive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: ** The Author owes nothing.

**WAR**

_- B Vain_

Chapter 2: Shadow of the storm

The halls were dead. Quiet.

Wind soughed mournfully up and down, weightless and wordless.

Practically everyone wearing the Fairy Tail insignia, and alive, was occupying space in the halls: either sitting on chairs, plopped down on the ground, or on their feet, leaning with their backs against the walls. But none were keen on making their presence known, or to throw away the shroud of tragic silence. Because they appeared to be inside the Guild but every last one of them was lost in their own world.

There were a few sobs, here and there, imperceptible. Others either busied themselves consoling the tearful ones or observed the shocked, stony silence.

Gray sipped sake from the clay cup resting lightly between his loose fingers. He was sitting in a lonely corner, around a table set for two. One chair he was occupying. Occupant of the other one was late. Late Natsu Dragneel. Gray smirked bitterly at the thought and took another sip of sake. His eyes were trained at the empty chair as if it held answeres to the questions and doubts tormenting him.

Gray poured himself more sake, and added a little to the already full cup set on the other side of the table. For the late occupant.

Someone along the ticking minutes had begun playing an old song on the piano. Couldn't be sure who; maybe, someone who found solace in the somber notes of the forgotten classic, maybe. Or Someone who, perhaps, found the notes of the song which described a tear round moon hanging over a lake a proper tribute to Natsu's sunny grins. Of which there would be none evermore.

In a silent turn the world had gone upside down. Everyone was coping in their own way.

Gray tried pouring himself some more sake, but only a few drops dripped into the empty cup. The sake was gone.

Gray set the cup and the bottle heavily on the table and pulled back his elbows on his knees. And he let his forehead rest against the knuckles of his locked fingers.

Now that the sake was gone, so was the distraction. And the feeble illusion he had forced upon himself that the world hadn't ended just yet wavered.

The smooth wind rolled down to his corner. It teased off a few drops of sake from the overflowing cup, and provided camouflage to Gray's soft sobs.

The song continued to play in the background.

It carried on for minutes thus. 'Til the large entrance double doors swung in and in strode Erza briskly.

"Master has summoned us all." she announced into the silence. The music had stopped soon as she had made an appearance. "Up to the war room. Now." she added without breaking her stride and disappeared up the stairs.

A short silence followed after which the guild rumbled with the dragging chairs and ground drummed with the footfalls of people thronging towards the stairs.

Gray dug the heel of his palms across his eyes as if trying not just to wipe away the tears he had shed but also squeeze out those that will follow.

And when his hands fell to his side, when he was up on his feet, his face had settled into the lines of an impassive mask, cold as any of his creations.

Grieving will have to wait. It was time to put on the game face.

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><p>tbc...<p>

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><p>An: I wasn't sure before about the pairing. Now I've decided. I have three more chapters done and will try to update the next two within a day or two. Enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Author doesn't owe a thing.

**WAR**

_-B Vain_

_In words of the Old Testament preacher: _"In the day of prosperity rejoice, and in the day of adversity consider..."

_Chapter 3: War Council (Examining the Enemy)_

The War Room was large and window-less with a long conference table set in the middle. The guild settled around it in their seats largely without uttering a word. Once the last of the scraping chairs had silenced a haunted sort of quiet took over.

Nobody said anything, all observed the mournful silence that precedes a terrible loss.

The flames of the torches lining the eastern and western walls fluttered as Erza pushed the door to the war room close. She moved quietly to take her place at the table and remained silent even after she was seated.

The room was brightly lit, stuffed to capacity with people, with numerous torches burning candidly, yet there was a prickling chill- absent elsewhere in the Guild- that hung like a pall in the air, giving no signs of abating.

It was the work of a spell, one that was embedded in the room's architecture to keep people from getting too cozy in their seats or confident in their plans. It is true that one does all they are capable of to fight off an adversity, but in a war tactics and cunning could carry one only so far.

But none of the congregated members of the Fairy Tail took note of it, or gave any signs that they even felt it. They were all too busy trying to keep themselves from unraveling. What Gray had told himself down in the halls was an adage rest of the guild was sticking to as well. There will be a time and place to mourn the loss, this wasn't it.

But it was easier decided than done. If an outsider were to stride into the War room they would have found dozens of quivering faces; people trying to balance their minds at the edge of a sane precipice with the dead weight of grief pulling them down. Overcoming such a deep loss is not a matter of decision, but a wound that requires liberal salve of time just to take the edge off..

After what felt like an hour Master entered the War Room. He hurried down the short steps from the door hidden in the wall opposite to the gates from which the rest of the Guild had streamed in.

"Sorry for the delay," Master jogged up to the throne like chair at the table's head. "I had to make some calls, deliver a few letters. Old friends, enduring favors." He hopped into the chair, adjusted himself, and with a sharp eye surveyed the gathering. Almost nobody was meeting his eyes. With the sole exception of Erza and Gray they were all wearing looks of such dejected misery that it seemed cruel to drag them out of their shells. But it needed to be done, wallowing in misery was something they could all ill-afford.

"I know this is a hard time. But circumstances demand for us to disregard our pain. Strategy dictates that we act as if nothing were out of place." Pointing at Natsu's empty chair, the one directly opposite to Gray, he said, "That chair will never ever be occupied again. And unless we act quickly we're risking another empty chair." he laid bare these facts with such brusque finality that a few shocked, wide-eyed faces turned to regard him with something akin to betrayal.

Master endured the looks with studied apathy. He laid his eyes directly on Erza and asked, "So what's the Department of Detectives saying?"

Erza who was sitting all the way across from him on the other end of the table replied in tones matching Master's own, "They have all the evidence they could need. Investigation hadn't taken long. It was pretty much open and shut, they're saying. But from what I gathered there are few holes in their theory. but those loopholes don't seem to faze them at all."

"How's that?"

"Well, they are operating under the assumption that soon they'll have enough circumstantial evidence to make their case air-tight. But even if that doesn't work out they have another reason not to fret: the Public Prosecutor."

"Is he any good?"

"Mira is worried."

Master sighed.

In quiet he contemplated. Then asked, "What's her strategy, then?"

"She's still working on one, so she didn't have much to share on the matter. But Mira told me that the Detectives might not have as much evidence by the time trial begins as they're leading the press to believe."

_The press, _Master suppressed a sigh,_ that's another ticking bomb. _But he kept the conversation on track, "What does that mean?"

"Mira is confident she can have some of the evidence discounted. Shoddy storage, poor sampling and such." said Erza.

Master gave a small nod. He slipped back into quite deliberation when a small voice, rough and tremulous, piped up. "Did you meet her? Did you meet Lucy-san?"

It was the tiny Sky-Dragon Slayer, Wendy. In her lap was Charlie, sitting quiet and motionless like a stuffed toy.

Erza looked down at Wendy. Something in her eyes shifted as she said, a bit stonily, "I did." The words seem to cost her great effort.

"Is she – will she be able to attend the f-funeral?" Wendy stuttered and hiccuped, but held back her tears. But many around the table appeared to be losing that battle.

She maybe able to go toe-to-toe with the toughest of them, could take down enemies that seem invincible as legends but in the vastness of her loss Wendy appeared just as she was: a small, hurt kid. A kid with innocent questions and none of the adult's resignation to blunt the edge of the answers.

Erza's jaw clenched so hard that it was a miracle to see it move. "I certainly hope so.", she said.

And that was end of that painful exchange.

_BANG! _But afresh strife was brewing.

"Enough of this shit!" the table shuddered from the impact of Gajeel's fist. He straightened to his feet with such force that his chair toppled over and skidded back a few feet. "How long are we going to sit here pussyaching about detectives and evidence and strategies when we should be out there storming the prison and breaking Lucy out?!"

"Sit your ass down." Gray shot at him tiredly. "You think you're the only one who feels this way?"

"I'm _know_ I'm the only one who's ready to do something about it!"

"Something stupid, that is."

"A whole lot less stupider than sitting here while the son-of -a-bitch responsible roams free and Lucy takes the rap!"

"This," Master's word fell like a hammer, crushing the argument silent. He didn't sound brusque anymore. "is a matter beyond what we want anymore." The tilt of his head and the light falling from the torches was such that it hid better part Master's face in shadows. "If things were even a little different, I would have been standing next to you as you broke Lucy out, I myself would've scoured the globe for the bastard responsible and ripped their head off. But I can't!" And when Master raised his head, to those who did see it, there had never been a thing- literature, art or act- as tragic as was Master's old seamed face, contorted in an effort to hold a sob. Fat, round tears were spilling down his cheeks and chin. "I lost my son! My daughter is spending the darkest night of her life alone in a cold cell!" he choked out. "I want revenge too, I want to go berserk and loose my mind. But I can't because Lucy deserves freedom and respect, not a life on the run. And my dear boy, he would never be able to rest in peace if his death became an excuse for the enemies to corner us." The War Council was rapidly turning into a tear-fest as many around the table joined Master.

Levy had pulled up Gajeel's chair and had pushed it carefully behind him. Gajeel dropped into it, and hung his head to hide his own pain. Levy, with silent tears streaming, slipped her arms around Gajeel and buried her face in his wild mane.

But not everybody had gone to pieces, some like Erza and Gray maintained their stoic calm. They simply sat with their heads bowed, eyes dry and counting patient minutes off till the discussion resumed.

Slowly, as minutes had passed, people were gaining their wits about themselves. Master too had calmed down significantly. This short recesses of sorts may have taken up time but it had done Fairy Tail's spirits a world of good.

The discussion, when resumed, saw participation of every single member. No longer detached and lost in their own minds, they raised pertinent questions and suggested efficient solutions. Things that ran the risk of slipping past before, were identified and dealt with. It wasn't easy, nor smooth, more than a few still broke into tears intemittently but they were all determined to make it past.

"We have too little to work on here." Master finally announced after half-hour long back-and-forth on the possible scenarios revolving around Natsu's murder. "We need our own investigation, our own chain of evidence. It will help exonerate Lucy and shed light on the real criminal." He turned to Gray. "Can I leave that responsibility to you?"

Gray gave one silent nod.

"Excellent."

"But Master what did you mean by the real culprit?" asked Levy, her voice was a bit scratchy. "Don't we already know who did this? Or at least suspect of being the prime suspect."

"Not like there are too many people capable of... something like this." Wakaba nodded.

Master considered, looking from Levy to Wakaba and to the rest. "If it's between us then I guess it's safe to admit that, yes, I believe it was Zeref. He's the only one who could've done this"

"Makes sense, right?" It was Max "The darkest, most Evil mage in the entire history certainly fits the bill. What I can't see happening though is Natsu going down without a fight."

Everyone agreed with this. Natsu hadn't ever yielded even a piece of cake without a fight, forfeiting his life without any struggle was as mind boggling as it was hard to conceive. If it hadn't actually happened nobody would've believed it.

"That's the question it all comes down to, doesn't it: Why he didn't put up a fight?" sighed Master. He looked at Erza, "Are we sure he didn't- "

"Autopsy isn't done yet, but yeah, pretty sure." she cut the question short.

"It's obvious that no matter how we go about it there's no headway to be made on this matter till Gray's done some digging." Jet took the reins of the discussion and steered it in a different direction. "But there's another matter that can use our attention right now: the press. I don't think Freed's runes are a lasting solution."

"Yeah, there are hundreds of them camped right outside the guild and they don't like they're leaving anytime soon. Freeds's magic is the only thing keeping them back." Droy agreed grimly.

"There is a back door we can all slip out of." Elfman suggested.

"If only it were that simple." was Bisca's opinion. And Alzac stood by her, "Bisca's right. The Media wouldn't stop hounding us till they have what they want."

"So what do we do? Give them one-on-one interview with everyone in the guild and complete access to all records?" the scorn was palpable in Evergreen's tone.

"But we can't keep them out either." Freed chose to be the voice of reason. "Poor hospitality aside it makes us look guilty.

"Sine when do we care how we look?"

"Do you idiots ever pay attention? Master just said we are fighting this fight following _their_ rules. Which includes not being an ass to the press."

"Freed is right." Master interjected before matters got tangled. "The Media- not just the press, it's seven years later people, keep up with times!- needs to be dealt with efficiently and diplomatically. I'll do that.

"Make no mistake, this is a war we're fighting here. There is no room for conceited stupidity, or any kind of stupidity," He appraised them all with hard eyes. "If Zeref is the one pulling the strings and cutting them, then there's a whole lot more to the situation than meets the eye. That Evil spawn has the means to eradicate every last one of us without breaking sweat. Or have all forgotten Acnologia."

None of them had. And as Master went into length his words were starting to make a terrible sort of sense.

"There's a bigger mystery here than we see, a bigger plan afoot, and we need to figure out our role in it. Don't forget there's more than our lives and freedom that's at stake here. Whatever cynical lens you view the world with, you all have an obligation to protect it."

Master let his words sink. And the rest of the Guild considered.

A long minute later he asked Lisanna, who was filling in for Mira as their 'court reporter', to read the highlights of the meeting and iterated many points himself again before he dismissed the first War Council under his time.

There had been many absentee, too- Laxus, Bixlow, Gildarts, Juvia. Master had plans on making sure they're apprised of the matters discussed.

Though they hadn't made any breakthroughs in the meeting but at a least some ground rules had been laid. And most importantly Master had managed to address the subject of Natsu's death, somewhat.

Natsu's passing was a fresh wound, and a very deep one. Master was worried that a false move from his part might crippled the Guild's will, but, incredibly, it had worked out much better than he had dared hope.

And this very thing, this one thing, made Master wonder if that hadn't been the plan all along- Zeref's plan. After all, there is no preparation for such a thing in the world. Maybe he wanted them all paralyzed with grief, as they all had been and weren't anymore. But if Zeref had wanted them out of the way, then, why hadn't he just killed them all and settled it? Was he actually convinced that eradicating Fairy Tail completely would be impossible? They had made it out okay once. But statically one time doesn't equal a pattern. So was he just being cautious? What the hell could he be planning that would require for _him_ to be cautious of _them_? Or maybe it's something else entirely.

Once again, even in his own head, all conjecture had run a full circle into the same dead-end: Did or did not Natsu put up a fight? And the other exponentially tougher question to answer: If not, then why?

It 's all upto Gray now, and what he digs up. Speaking of whom...

"Gray." Master called. Gray had hung back to let the crowd streaming out of the door thin. And now that it had he was making his way out as well. Gray halted earing Master call, turned back and asked, "Yeah?"

"Go home and rest." advised Master.

"But I was-" Gray made a small gesture towards the door, but Master cut him-off.

"I know. But right now I need you to catch a little sleep. I'll have to grease the wheels some so that when you get to work you _can_ work. And that sort of thing takes time."

_Old friends and enduring favors._ Gray considered.

"You sure you don't need any help, because I can-"

"_Gray" _Master was stern.

Gray sighed gustily, relenting, "Fine." and then strode back into the room till he was besides Master seated in his throne-like chair. Gray stooped low and gave Master a fierce hug. "Take good care of yourself, Old Man." he muttered.

Master patted Gray's hair lightly, "You too, son."

There were no tears, no choking up, just a father and son conveying assurances to the other in a tough time.

They broke away soon. "See you in the morning, then." Master's farewell was more like an order.

Gray was already at the door when he raised a hand in farewell.

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><p>tbc<p>

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><p>An: This chapter wasn't meant to be this long. Next one will be more manageable. Enjoy!


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